


Demons

by slash-em-up (writeonrice)



Category: The Collector Series (Movies)
Genre: Demons, Gen, Ghosts, mystery and horror, posession, pre-Collector Asa, take that as you will, this was inspired by watching Josh Stewart in Insidious 4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 10:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25847959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeonrice/pseuds/slash-em-up
Summary: On Asa’s 25th birthday a surprising call pulls him back into a terrifying world he’d managed to suppress- the sins of the father are visited on the son, and all that…
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

Asa swiped impatiently at the drop of sweat about to drip off of his chin and pushed his glasses back into place.

He was one of the very few doctoral candidates to brave the science building since the air conditioner had gone out three days ago; allowing the blazingly humid August afternoon to permeate every inch of the normally dusty building. But these specimens wouldn’t pin themselves - and Asa needed the extra foot in the door if he had any hope of securing a place as Dr. Lautners teaching assistant when the next semester started.

In the doctor’s opinion Asa was ‘the most brilliant entomology student he’d ever had the pleasure of instructing _but_ …’ and it was that ‘ _but’_ that rankled at the back of Asa’s mind like a cancer.

Apparently even entomology was a popularity contest.

Disgusting.

Though Asa would be hard pressed to think of a better way to spend his twenty-fifth birthday - if not for the humid weather and the two other students giving each-other obscene looks at the desk in the far corner. The female student giggled moronically at something her partner said, and Asa huffed, annoyed at the break in his concentration.

He adjusted his glasses again, although they had barely shifted, and leaned back in the hard wooden chair.

“Could you please be quiet?” Asa asked the amorous pair in a sharp tone.

Both students jerked from their far-too-close conversation to look up at Asa - as if noticing for the first time that they weren’t alone in the sun-lit lab.

“Well if it isn’t Asshole Emory! I should have known you’d be here trying to catch a peep.”

The young man wrapped his arm around his girlfriend with a smirk, apparently very proud of himself for his ‘insult’.

Asa sighed as the girl let out a shrieking laugh, making her ample bosom shake.

“Aw babe, you know this is the only way he’s ever going to see a pair of tits in real life - what, Asshole, boobie-mags not cutting it for you? Gotta come creeping to get your rocks off?”

The girl pulled her shirt low, exposing her bra and shimmying in Asa’s direction.

Quickly, Asa turned his head, looking back at his pinnings as the pair laughed meanly at his involuntary blush.

Fuck them.

Asa wished he could say this was the first time he’d been harangued for his supposed inexperience and overall lack of social graces; but he’d be lying.

He also knew that shooting back a comment about how their grades might be better if they focused more on their course-work and less on their hormones would only make them laugh harder.

Sometimes he wished he could just…

But no - Asa stopped himself - that wouldn’t help anything… he didn’t think…

He glanced up from under his lashes at the pair across the room; imagining their sneering faces carved into glorious shapes, skin spread across a board just like the butterfly he was pinning, just like…

“EMORY? ASA EMORY?”

The department secretary was yelling from her desk down the hall.

Asa stood immediately - secretly relieved for an excuse to leave the two other students.

The girl pulled away from her paramour, glancing up and down at Asa before affecting a pout.

“Aww no boner?” she frowned.

Asa’s hands fisted at his sides and he hastened his steps out of the room.

By the time he’d reached the secretaries desk he was nearly calm again, having forcefully shoved those violent intrusive thoughts to the back of his mind.

He raised a brow at the secretary, who snapped her gum and gave an unimpressed look at his sweaty shirt and wrinkled trousers.

“Phone call.”

Asa blinked.

“From whom?”

The secretary shrugged, handing him the phone and returning to her magazine.

Asa lifted the phone to his ear and gave a perfunctory ‘hello’.

“Mr. Emory?” a voice from the other end started.

“I’m Mr. Aahrens. I’m a lawyer at the district attorney’s office. I wanted to call and let you know that there’s some business we should discuss regarding your inheritance.”

“…My inheritance?”

“Yes indeed - you see son; even though your father passed away as a… ah… resident… of the county jail, the will he drafted before his… well, you know, is still legally binding. And as I believe today is your twenty-fifth birthday, you’re now old enough to receive what he left you.”

There were a myriad of thoughts running through Asa’s mind and not one of them would slow long enough for him to formulate a coherent answer.

The years following his fathers’ massacre were a blur of different psychologists and lawyers and foster homes - all wanting to hear from the youngest, and subsequently only surviving, Emory child the gory details of what exactly had happened the night Giles Emory snapped; but Asa could recall with near perfect clarity the day his current foster parents had explained to him that the house, the museum, and everything that he hadn’t carried with him the night the police had come to remove him and the bodies of his sisters and mother from the house now belonged to the state - helping to pay for his father’s legal bills. There was nothing left. Or at least there shouldn’t have been.

“I’m sorry, I’m confused. All our family’s possessions were sold off to my knowledge. You must be mistaken.”

The man on the other end of the phone sighed.

“No, Asa, I’m not. It appears that your father saved… quite a bit of his museums’ collections to gift to you… The sum total of the artifacts is catalogued at over $500,000…”

Asa was floored. He could pay for the rest of his school - pay off his loans - tell Dr. Lautner to shove his TA position…

“… his only stipulation was that you come in-person to review the collections. Don’t quite know why…”

Asa barely took a moment to consider.

“Yes. Yes, I agree. Where and when should I meet you?”

Mr. Aahrens sighed.

“Tomorrow too soon?”

Asa felt the stirrings of excitement building in his gut - a completely foreign feeling to the young man.

“No, tomorrow isn’t too soon.”

“Good. Meet me at the old Argento hotel. You know the place? It’s down on the west side.”

Something was wriggling at the back of Asa’s mind. Something he should remember; but didn’t. Something important.

A shadow flickered out of the corner of Asa’s eye and he shifted minutely to look.

The corridor was empty.

“Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The phone clicked as Mr. Aahrens hung up abruptly.

Odd; but Asa didn’t give it much thought as his mind buzzed with ideas and plans of what he might do with this unexpected windfall.

Maybe something good would come from his fathers’ madness after all.

Only time would tell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Have you ever been alone at night  
> Thought you heard footsteps behind  
> And turned around and no one's there  
> And as you quicken up your pace  
> You find it hard to look again  
> Because you're sure there's someone there' - Fear of the Dark, Iron Maiden

Darkness had already fallen when Asa finally left the lab.

His mind had been a blur of thoughts ever since he’d gotten off the phone with Mr. Aahrens. Not even the continued glances and snide comments from the other students could break him from his contemplation.

Which unfortunately meant that by the time Asa roused himself enough to glance at a clock, he had already missed the last bus back to campus housing.

Nothing like a brisk five-mile walk in the dead of night.

Asa huffed in annoyance and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. The absent chill coming back with a vengeance now that the sun had dropped below the horizon.

He should have brought a jacket.

His pace was brisk, even though he had no particular desire to return to his shoebox apartment and his roommate Gary, who majored in ‘pussy and weed’ - his words, not Asa’s. Asa would say that pussy was a minor, at best. If Gary had a parade of partners he was doing a masterful job at hiding them from his roommate.

But that aside, Asa’s clothes always left the apartment smelling vaguely of cannabis, even though Asa himself did not indulge; and he wanted to air out his suit coat before he met with the lawyer tomorrow. It was incredibly annoying how many of his professors started out thinking he was the class stoner. But it was his pleasure to prove that notion incorrect as quickly as possible. He also reminded himself to check and see if his good shoes needed to have the heel glued back on.

Ah, the life of a post-graduate student.

Clothing and such were low -very low - on Asa’s priority list; but even so, he couldn’t help but relish the idea of being able to buy some new boots. Maybe a suit that wasn’t second-hand…

A sudden shuffling noise brought Asa out of his musings.

His steps slowed; but didn’t stop as he surveyed the area around him.

While he wouldn’t say he was particularly athletic, he was strong enough to handle many of the larger specimen crates and knew he was tall enough to cut an imposing figure in the dark - so Asa wasn’t terribly concerned for his safety one-on-one.

If he was jumped and his assailant had a weapon that was a different story.

Mentally, he shrugged. He hoped the potential mugger liked Subway because a half-full punch card was about all he had on him.

The shuffling noise came again, this time clear as a bell from his left.

Asa pivoted, black eyes scanning the darkened corners and alleyway for any sign of movement.

Nothing.

Brow furrowing, Asa slowly turned and continued on his way.

He made it less than a hundred yards before the shuffling returned, this time at his back.

Determined to ignore whoever was trying to unsettle him, Asa strode forward unhindered, making sure to keep his pace steady - he wouldn’t let himself be made into a laughingstock over a stupid prank.

The noises followed him, eventually shifting from the shuffling sound of something being pulled along the concrete into heavy, dragging footsteps just ever so slightly out of pace with Asa’s own.

Asa clenched and unclenched his fists. He yelled back over his shoulder to whoever was out there making a nuisance of themselves.

“I can hear you - don’t you have something better to do with your time?”

The steps never faltered.

He was nearing the student apartments when his mysterious follower suddenly picked up their pace - the sound of a sprinting approach making him whirl around, hands raised, ready to defend himself.

Only to be met with an empty sidewalk.

A buzzing CRACK sounded as the streetlight directly above suddenly snapped off, leaving Asa standing in a pool of blackness.

Asa glanced up before quickly returning his gaze to the empty street.

His heart was beating fast in his chest, though he fought to keep his breathing steady.

Streetlights went out all the time. Especially when they overheated. There was nothing to get dramatic about. He’d had a long day, and the hours he’d spent in the stuffy lab were probably finally catching up to him.

He’d turn around, walk home, and get a glass of water before bed.

Preparing to do just that, Asa haltingly spun, keeping his eyes keen for any movement.

A hissing breeze ran through the thin material of his shirt and Asa shivered.

Still suspicious, he kept his gaze on a swivel as he slowly walked the last few yards to his building; climbing the stairs and quickly unlocking the door.

It wasn’t until the portal was firmly shut and the deadbolt set in place that Asa allowed the tension in his shoulders to ease.

Asa jumped slightly as a loud snore sounded from behind him, and he whirled with a snarl.

He released an annoyed groan at the sight of Gary asleep on the couch - an empty pizza box and beer bottles scattered across his impromptu bed.

His nose wrinkled at the strong smell of smoke that permeated the apartment, and he moved slowly around the room, opening each window as he silently berated himself for his foolishness on the street.

God, he really was pathetic.

Grabbing a glass of water he walked to his room, tiredly removing his clothes until he was down to his boxers.

The night was chill; but the apartment was small enough that it held onto the days heat like a sponge and Asa was quick to turn on the small box-fan taking up the ledge of his window.

He sat on the edge of his bed, contemplating all the happenings of the day.

To say he was surprised to hear that his father had left him something he might actually find useful was an extreme understatement.

He hadn’t seen the man outside of a courtroom in over a decade. Not long after, Giles Emory had passed away during the night. Locked safe and sound in his jail cell - conveniently less than a week before he was set to be executed.

The specifics of his passing were never explained to his son, and honestly Asa had little interest in hearing how his progenitor had met his end. It was enough that it was indeed met.

But now…

No. That wasn’t something he needed to know. Whether his father’s post-mortum generosity was out of dilatory guilt, or some misguided idea that Asa would be the new caretaker for his collection, he didn’t care. Giles was dead, and that wouldn’t change just because Asa decided to make his own life a bit easier by selling his father’s legacy off piece by piece.

Flicking his light-switch, Asa laid down on top of his covers - slowly letting the hum of the fan lull him to sleep.

Just below his window, another streetlight went out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Bium bium bambalo  
> Babalo and dillidillido  
> My little friend I lull to rest  
> But outside a face looms at the window' - Bium Bium Bambalo, Sigur Ros

The wooden staircase was cool beneath Asa’s bare feet as he tip-toed down in search of a glass of water.

It was past midnight - far, far past the time the eight-year-old boy should have been sound asleep in his bed; but he’d woken with an intense thirst and his bedside cup was completely dry, thanks to his mother’s over-salted chicken.

Anne Emory was not even close to what you’d call a ‘good cook’.

All the lights in the residence were out, and Asa used what little moonlight there was to direct him towards the kitchen - making sure to keep his steps light and silent to avoid waking anyone else in the house.

_‘Asa’_

The boy jolted, swiveling on his heel to glance up the way he’d just come.

The stairs behind him were empty.

Asa blinked behind his glasses.

“…Clara?” he whispered.

He soaked in the silence for a few moments longer before continuing on through the house, passing the living room, his fathers’ study, and the formal dining room before finally entering the kitchen.

Asa didn’t dare turn on a light - the kitchen was directly below his parents’ bedroom - the glow would shine damningly across their backyard and his father was a notoriously light sleeper.

The over-grown oak tree outside cast eerie shadows on the walls, which put the small boy on high-alert - fully convinced that the second he let his guard down the shadows would manifest into one of his family members.

At worst he’d receive a brisk scolding from his mother, and teasing from his sisters; but if his father found him…

Asa didn’t care to consider those consequences beyond the indisputable fact that they would be painful.

He pushed the sink tap on just enough for a steady trickle of water to flow through without the old pipes that ran through the house moaning in annoyance.

Once his cup was filled, he raised it to his lips and drained it quickly. The boy sighed in contentment as the gummy feeling coating his throat abated. He refilled the glass once more, setting it to the side of the sink, before turning to make his way back upstairs.

A tall figure stood at the end of the hallway.

Asa gasped, jumping back and pressing himself to the wall next to the door.

_‘Asa’_

There it was again. He hadn’t imagined it. Was it his father? But then why wouldn’t he have stopped Asa on the stairs?

He peered around the doorframe, trying to expose as little of himself as he could.

The figure was closer now.

He began to shake as his eyes took in as much of the person as he could make out in the shadowy hallway.

It most definitely wasn’t his father.

It was tall - almost unbelievably tall; and had elongated fingers that flexed and wriggled like worms - each coming to what looked like a dangerously sharp point.

Asa was nearly hyperventilating as his gaze wandered down - the thing, at this point he was absolutely certain he was not looking at a person, seemed to melt into the floor where the body should reasonably end.

The terrified boy jerked back as the creature took an audible step forward.

Whatever it was, it sounded solid as whatever passed for its foot came down on the hardwood with a heavy KA-THUNK.

Curling in on himself Asa frantically looked around the room for an escape - listening with mounting terror as the steps drew closer and closer.

Asa thought he knew what it felt like to be prey. He’d felt small and out of control and attacked before; but he was rapidly discovering that he’d never really understood what it was to truly be hunted.

Because that’s exactly how he felt right now. Whatever was coming down the hall was hunting him. And it wanted to hurt him. Badly. The energy of the room was a frantic swirl of his own terror and the things sick delight - excitement mixed with a feral intelligence and all of that menace aimed directly at the cowering boy.

The Emory family was not religious in any sense of the word; but in that moment Asa wished he knew the words to call out to some higher being for help.

A whimper escaped his mouth before he clasped his hands tightly over his lips.

It was then that he noticed how quiet the house had become.

No more steps, no rattle of pipes, no creak of settling wood. Nothing.

Asa shook with adrenaline as he once more peered one eye around the doorway.

The hall was empty.

Jumping to his feet Asa prepared to make a run back to his room - believing as many children do that as soon as he was back safely in his bed that nothing could harm him - this would all just be a bad dream.

A low growling noise sounded out from behind him, and Asa froze.

He slowly turned, unable to hold in his scream of terror at the sight he was met with.

Not five feet away the hulking creature crouched next to the table - a vicious snarl curling at its lips, exposing blackened fangs to the dim light of the room.

Asa bolted.

He ran as quickly as his legs could carry him down the hall.

The creature appeared in the dining room, leaping over the table and charging at Asa.

It was in his father’s study - closer now, seeming to fly towards him.

Asa careened past the living room, giving another scream as the thing appeared out of the corner - arms and terrible clawed hands outstretched to grab at his clothes.

Yelping, Asa’s frantic escape came to a sudden halt as his footing slid out from under him on the entryway rug, sending the boy crashing to the floor, then into a scrambling crawl for the stairs.

But it was too late.

The creature was on him, claws digging into his chest and throat as it gazed down in wide-eyed manic hunger at the screaming boy.

Asa struggled with all his might; but couldn’t dislodge the thing from atop his small body.

The creature’s teeth were inching towards Asa’s neck.

He felt its hot, rank breath on his face and began to cry…

…Then, suddenly, the upstairs lights came on - the retreating darkness taking the creature with it, as if it had never existed in the first place.

Asa shuddered and sobbed on the cold floor - crying harder as he looked up through his now-cracked glasses to see his father standing at the top of the stairs.

His sisters were poking their heads out from the opposite hall, looking at him with confused concern - Erin was glancing nervously between him and their father.

Asa weakly sat up, still shaking, trying to wipe the tears from his face as quickly as he could.

“Fa-father there was a - “

Giles Emory stared dispassionately down at his weeping son.

“Asa go to my office and wait for me.”

“But fa -!”

“ENOUGH. Go now. I won’t tell you again.”

Clenching his teeth, Asa slowly rose to his feet, shuffling haltingly towards the dark hallway once more.

He shrunk back against the wall as he passed each room, watching in terror for the shadows to begin moving.

Reaching his father’s office, he grasped the handle on the now-closed door, mentally preparing himself for the beating he knew was coming.

_‘Asa’_

The boy froze.

_‘Catch you next time, Asa…’_

A strong hand dropped heavily on Asa’s shoulder.

**“NO!”**

* * *

**“NO!”**

Asa shot up from his bed with a start. Bare chest covered in sweat as he panted in panic.

The grey light of morning was just beginning to filter in through his open window as Asa ran his hands across his face - trying to dispel the last haunting remnants of the dream.

Just a dream.

Taking a deep breath Asa pulled his legs to his chest, wrapping his arms around them - taking momentary comfort as his mind and body calmed.

His tense muscles started to relax as he reasoned with himself. It had only been a dream. It wasn’t the first time he’d had night terrors like that - they’d begun not long after his father had…

Asa’s mind skittered away from that particular memory, still not in the frame of mind to analyze his past in any way close to detached.

Speaking of his past…

He groaned as he peered at the clock.

4 AM - his appointment with the lawyer wasn’t until 8 AM. Which left him with a solid three hours of ‘Gary-Time’.

Joy.

Rising, Asa tugged on a holey tee-shirt and ran a hand through his mussed hair as he shambled out into the living room.

Gary looked up at him blearily from his sprawl on the couch - already rolling his first blunt of the day.

“You’re up early.” Asa said.

Gary shrugged.

“Your screaming woke me up, dude.”

Asa pursed his lips and turned to start the coffee pot; muttering under his breath “Don’t call me ‘dude’…”

Gary chuckled behind him.

“Whatever, _dude_.”

Asa sighed, pushing his glasses back up his face.

He hoped the rest of the day would go smoother than this. It had to. Asa was determined to leave the ghosts of his family’s history in the dark, where they belonged.

* * *

Across the city, in an abandoned hotel, a bright red trunk creaked slowly open. If there had been anyone there to witness it, they might think they saw the shadows deep inside the box flex and move…

_‘Asa…’_


End file.
